Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 726: Follow Your Heart

Back to mid-2007.

At this time, Kazuo Murakami had already finalized the general structure of that year's annual Game of the Year awards. As for the specific titles to be awarded, those wouldn't be decided until the final month before the event.

While he was in the middle of preparations, Murakami received an unexpected phone call one day.

On the other end of the line was a prominent figure in American politics.

This politician offered Murakami a deal: in exchange for supporting future development opportunities, he wanted a favor in return.

Murakami had been looking to globalize his operations. And if you wanted to expand globally—particularly in entertainment—you couldn't avoid going through the United States.

...

There were countless eyes watching.

If Murakami wanted to go further, he would need to listen to what America wanted—At least, that was the politician's message.

And it just so happened to hit Murakami right where he was most vulnerable. He really was looking for opportunities to take his enterprise to the next level. So when the other side said they could help accelerate his company's growth, Murakami gave a very positive response.

Then came the request:

Make Deep Space Exploration the Game of the Year.

Murakami was stunned into silence for a long moment.

Before this, the game had been receiving a lot of support online. Many netizens had flooded the voting pages to nominate it as GotY. Murakami, whose livelihood depended on public goodwill, naturally took these sentiments seriously.

But to actually award the game the highest honor... That was something he had serious reservations about.

Because the game simply didn't live up to that title.

If it were a case of "the best of a weak bunch," then fine. But now? The industry had matured. Aside from Gamestar Electronic Entertainment, there were now multiple developers who could produce solid 4.5- to 5-star titles.

Murakami had already marked five or six such games as contenders—each one a masterpiece in its own genre, even Takayuki had praised them after playing.

In that environment, Deep Space Exploration was a mere 3-star game, average and unremarkable. What gave it the right to be crowned the best of the year? Political correctness?

So Murakami sought Takayuki's advice. And Takayuki's answer was clear: He trusted Murakami to make the right call.

That gave Murakami the clarity he needed.

But he didn't expect a U.S. politician to follow up with a demand like that.

One path led to potential career growth—at the cost of betraying his own convictions.

The other meant possibly stalling his progress—but keeping his integrity and honoring the expectations of players who trusted him.

He wrestled with this decision for a long time.

But judging by the results he later announced... He had clearly made up his mind.

On stage, a portion of the Surei Electronics group rose from their seats, bursting into cheers. Team members hugged one another in elation as two lead developers in their 30s and 40s quickly made their way to the stage.

All along the aisle, they were met with envious, admiring gazes.They looked like men glowing with pride and purpose.

Takayuki watched them with genuine admiration.

He actually remembered these two very well. They were long-time veterans from Surei Electronics' game division—each with more than a decade of experience. They had lived through the fierce competition between Surei and Gamestar. More than anyone, they knew how unbeatable Gamestar had become.

But even so, they never gave up their passion for creating great games.

These two were the lead developers behind Sun Knight, a classic Surei IP. They were the soul of the series.

After years of hard work, their latest installment finally achieved true 5-star status.

Despite his hectic schedule, even Takayuki had taken time to play Sun Knight: Dark World. And it really was exceptional.

Now leaning into real-time combat, the game boasted top-tier visuals, effects, story presentation, and CG sequences. Takayuki estimated that the development budget likely exceeded $100 million.

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And in return, the game sold over five million physical copies. Considering Surei's vertical integration of production and sales, their cost per unit was likely only 5% of retail—After retailer cuts, everything else was pure profit. This was a massive win for Surei.

They had finally made a triumphant comeback.

This year's win wasn't just deserved—it was overdue.

Other titles may have also been strong contenders, but when it came to overall excellence, Takayuki still believed Sun Knight edged out the rest.

It made him quietly hopeful.

Maybe the day wasn't far off when he could finally retire,and just enjoy this world's games as a regular player.

"Thank you so much, everyone—thank you to my company, to our team, and especially to Mr. Kazuo Murakami! Winning Game of the Year is such a huge milestone for us.It validates all the work we've put in. And we promise to continue pouring our all into creating better, more ambitious games—To truly live up to this honor!"

...

But of course, where there are winners—there are also losers.

The team behind Deep Space Exploration was utterly deflated.

When they heard the winner announced—and it wasn't them—they froze. Standing or sitting, either would have been awkward. They were completely stiff.

In the end, they chose to slip out quietly while everyone's attention was on the stage.

They hadn't won a single award this year. It was a complete shutout.

For them, it was a devastating blow.

"There's no way this was fair! This has to be rigged! Why the hell didn't our game win anything?!"

A young man—maybe 24 or 25—stormed out of the theater, shouting in frustration.

The others could only hang their heads in silence.

They were angry too.

But what could they do?